


No where else to go

by TheChickenPit



Series: Chicken's RusAme Drabbles [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred's a superhero, Ivan just feels bad when it isn't him beating up Alfred, Ivan's a villan, Light Angst, not romantic - Freeform, please do NOT repost without my permission, superhero au, they are enemies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 22:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChickenPit/pseuds/TheChickenPit
Summary: Alfred shows up on Ivan's doorstep drugged and in serious need of medical attention.





	No where else to go

Rain poured heavily from the night sky, drumming on darkened and broken windows. The streets flooded under the relentless downpour and street lamps simmered brightly on the soaked sidewalks.

Ivan, protected within his temperature regulated home, sat in the light of his fireplace with his book rested against his crossed leg. An old quilt, laid lazily across his legs, wrapped him in a pleasant warmth that calmed his otherwise chaotic mind.

Slowly, he flicked to the next page, eyes dancing over every inked word from under long, pale eyelashes. The only noise in the room was the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth, just white noise compared to the sounds strung together by words. However, an echoing knock pierced through the light atmosphere.

Ivan’s hand twitched. His calm state of mind went crashing to the ground, allowing the demons that plagued his life to invade his mind again. Another knock from the front door sent a pang of annoyance through Ivan’s body and he slammed the book closed with a sharp clap.

He stood up abruptly, allowing the quilt to side to the ground, and threw the book back onto the plush, red armchair. Night slippers slapped the warm, wooden floor as he stormed to the front door with badly restrained anger. Undoing the locks, he swung the heavy door open to a shaking, hunched over figure on his doorstep.

This took him aback, not prepared for the sorry sight in front of him, but his anger still flared dangerously in his veins. The figure’s face was obscured by the hood they wore but he could make out the patches of blood staining tanned skin. Familiar, dazed, baby blues full of pain lock onto his eyes and the figure stumbled forward. Suddenly, with a strong feeling of hate and a hint of confusion, he recognized the cloaked man on his doorstep.

“I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.” Alfred whispered weakly before he collapsed in a heap to the ground.

Various feelings rushed through Ivan’s mind as he stared blankly at the fallen superhero at his door. His hands itched to squeeze the Alfred’s throat till he turned a pretty shade of blue, to take a knife and slice his throat and watch as crimson blood poured from his enticingly, thick neck. But those thoughts made his stomach turn as he stood above the unconscious hero.

Ivan swallowed hard and growled as he realized that he wanted to bring Alfred into his home and nurse him instead of draining him of life by his hands. Ivan glanced around to see if anyone was watching and picked Alfred up roughly by the back of his cloak to drag him into his home.

***

Alfred groaned in pain as he woke up dazed and disorientated. His hand automatically went to feel his stomach only to feel starched, white medical bandages under his fingers. He forced himself up into an upright position, ignoring his body’s protests. Alfred examined his face gently with his other hand and found more bandages wrapped around his forehead, his cheeks patched up and lips stitched.

He grimaced in pain as he continued to check himself over. Silently, he was surprised Ivan had let him in, much less patched him up while he was out of it. He thanked the gods that Ivan was able to put their disputes beside to help him, even if he didn’t do it willingly. Alfred sighed in relief as he found everything tended to and let himself relax, choosing to admire the silken sheets that covered him. It was then that Alfred noticed he was only in his boxers and his cheeks burned in embarrassment.

The door opening drew his attention away from his nudity to Ivan walking in with a steaming bowl of soup in hand. His eyes were as cold as ever but there was a hint of something else that Alfred couldn’t identify. Ivan strode stiffly up to the bedside and half dropped the bowl on the night stand before pulling the sheets back off Alfred body.

“Hey.” But his weak protests fell on deaf ears as he struggled to keep his body covered and Ivan pried the sheets out of Alfred’s hands.

“Relax, I’m just making sure your bandages didn’t come undone.” Ivan stated coolly without much a hint of interest.

Alfred watched him quietly as Ivan checked him over roughly, grunting when Ivan squeezed too hard over tender spots. His cheeks burned as Ivan checked him thoroughly and clenched his fists in the sheets. Ivan gave a silent nod to himself and dropped the leg he was checking and pushed the bowl of soup into Alfred’s hands.

“Eat.”

It was a simple command but Alfred noticed something else behind Ivan’s cold exterior. Ivan was nervous and it showed in the way his fingers fiddled with everything he held. Alfred says nothing. When he didn’t pick up the spoon fast enough for Ivan’s tastes, Ivan scrunched up his eyebrows in irritation and yanked the bowl from Alfred’s hands.

“You’re such a child, needing me to feed you like a baby.” Ivan said coldly as he held the spoon up to Alfred’s lips.

Alfred continued to stare at Ivan, which only proceeded to anger him further. Ivan growled in frustration and pinched Alfred’s thigh with his free hand. Alfred gasped involuntarily and Ivan grabbed his jaw, thrusting the steaming spoon into his mouth. He coughed as the soup burned his throat but Ivan cared not for his discomfort and pushed another spoon of soup to his lips.

This time, Alfred accepted the soup and carefully swallowed it down to avoid burning himself further. Soon, the soup was finished and Ivan left the room just as coldly as he came. Alfred was left to wonder why Ivan continued to care for him, albeit not too gently but care none the less. He wiped his mouth off with his forearm lightly, hissing in pain as he accidentally pulled at the stitches in his lips. 

However, he isn’t alone for long. Ivan comes back into the room, walking just as stiffly as before, with a glass of water and pain killers. Alfred’s learnt to accept the glass of water right away and drank most of it at once, soothing his dry and aching throat. He took the painkillers and drained the rest of the water before putting the glass down on the night stand. Alfred coughed.

“Why are you helping me?” Alfred asked quietly, staring at Ivan’s emotionless, violet eyes.

Ivan seemed to fidget under his gaze, looking away before looking straight at Alfred with a hardened glare.

“There is no satisfaction from defeating an already defeated hero, Alfred.” Ivan said harshly before turning and storming out of the room. Alfred felt strangely disappointed with his answer but settled back into the sheets to stare out into the rainy night.


End file.
